Mary Worth, 11/30/09

At last, the long, dragged-out saga of Adrian and Scott and Adrian’s Hesitation To Love and Scott’s Many Bullet Wounds is over. (And how did you do in faithful reader 8th Man Fan’s pool? See the results online here, or download them in an OpenOffice or Microsoft Excel spreadsheet!) As is the style of this feature, the details of the new story will emerge at a Charterstone Pool Party, and I’m very excited to see that said new story will involve Mary’s long-neglected neighbor Wilbur Weston, who, for an extra added bonus, has just had his heart ripped from his sweaty, hairy chest (metaphorically), as his girlfriend has skipped town without him. I’m guessing that Mary is oh-no-ing not because Wilbur is sad (as Wilbur’s sadness is hilarious), but rather because, as Charterstone’s resident manager, she was supposed to make sure that Iris hadn’t trashed her apartment before leaving in the dead of night, as one might be prone to do after God knows how many months in a relationship with Wilbur Weston.

Anyhoo, today’s strip is quite satisfying not just because it presages Wilbur’s long-term humiliation, but because it features Ian Cameron in his most outrageous pool party outfit yet. He pays a lot in condo fees and works hard reading years-old lecture notes on Robert Burns to bored undergraduates, damn it, and he deserves to unwind a little, and if that means matching up a Hawaiian shirt, electric blue cargo shorts, white socks, and (invisible, but a pretty safe bet) Birkenstocks, then so be it. Toby has put on her most bland off-pink shirt-dress to make sure that nothing outshines her husband’s aggressive sartorial choices.

Wizard of Id, 11/30/09

Speaking of hirsute humanoids, today’s Wizard of Id contains what I’m pretty sure is another instance of a legacy strip forgetting its own gimmick. Perpetual prisoner Spook, I have always assumed, is portrayed as hairy because he’s been in a dank jail cell, forgotten by the outside world, for decades, and has never been allowed any kind of razor or scissors to cut his hair or otherwise groom himself because he might use them to commit suicide and end his torment. This strip, however, seems to imply that he’s not just someone with long, matted hair, but is rather a member of a particularly hairy hominid species; perhaps his detention is not a result of some long-ago act defined as a crime by Id’s repressive regime, but was dictated by racial purity laws that keep his kind out of the public’s sight. It may be that he is in fact the last of his race, which makes his request for the depiction of a comely she-Spook all the more poignant.

Mark Trail, 11/30/09

Oh, and speaking of soap strips changing storylines, usually in the transition between Mark Trail plots, Mark briefly revisits Lost Forest and spends a few days avoiding his wife’s marital advances before going out on another moronic assignment. Therefore, I’m assuming that what Rusty is warning Mark to LOOK OUT for in eight-gazillion point font is Cherry lying in wait on the side of the road in her attempt to sex-ambush him. On the other hand, they are near the ocean, so it’s possible that their car is coming under attack from a flock of vicious flying squid.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/30/09

Oh look, Peter the Sex Chameleon has made an appearance! He’s normally blond when interacting with his similarly fair wife, but can darken up when necessary to woo a raven-haired beauty. And now that he has encountered a rival for his wife’s affection, his hair has turned red, for anger! Tim’s going to need those throttling-and-punching skills soon enough.

Funky Winkerbean, 11/30/09

Funky is leading Les down into the basement so that he can feed him into the meat grinder and serve him as pepperoni on Montoni’s awful pizzas. Thus Funky Winkerbean’s feel-good holiday storyline begins!

Gil Thorp, 11/26/09

Greetings, faithful readers! I hope those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving did so with your real friends, a whole bunch of beer bottles, and celebrated as our Pilgrim forefathers did, at a picnic table in some dark, lonely park somewhere.

Mark Trail, 11/26/09

Those of you who are criminals have a lot to be thankful for! Specifically, you can be thankful that in America’s forgiving justice system, you can go from being a law-breaker to being law-enforcement official simply by choosing exactly the right time to kick one of your erstwhile criminal associates in the face.

Dick Tracy, 11/27/09

As for me, I’m mostly thankful that Dick Tracy refers to any concert not performed by the U.S. Marine Corps Band or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir as “long hair stuff.”

Mark Trail, 11/29/09

And I’m also pleased that Mark Trail decided to pass over more obvious animals on Thanksgiving weekend and go for the deep’s more terrifying tentacled monsters, offering us in the process a lovely image of a nervous human approaching the rotting corpse of 50-foot-long giant squid and a giant depiction of a living squid of indeterminate size regarding us inscrutably from his watery lair. And, sure, the bottom left panel is a repeat of one from a previous squid-themed Mark Trail installment, but what of it? If I had produced an awesome drawing of dozens of squids flying through the air like a barrage of betentacled missiles, I’d run it every damn day if I could.

Heart of the City, 11/25/09

I’ve enjoyed a couple of trips to Philadelphia, where Heart of the City is set, and I’ve always considered Ben Franklin to be my favorite Founding Father. Still, if I were walking through a scenic Philly park and encountered a tiny Franklin-gnome staring ahead with dead eyes, I think I would be profoundly disturbed.

Luann, 11/25/09

“So it turns out that Brad is pretty good at picking out gifts for both of us! How incredibly awkward, for baffling, inscrutable reasons of narrative convenience!”

Crock, 11/25/09

It obviously makes total sense that Captain Preppie is being eaten from the inside out by his own handsomeness. However, I’m unsettled by the way he’s brandishing that corn dog with a heavy-lidded leer.

Hey, kids, I’m going to be gorging myself on turkey and drinking gravy straight from the boat for the next few days. See ya Monday or thereabouts!

Mark Trail, 11/24/09

Rusty may be intensely stupid and hideously deformed, but he knows how the world — specifically, the world of Mark Trail — works. Having literally swung into action to defend an irritating puppy, Bob will have all of his past transgressions forgiven. Anyway, he was only killing and skinning gators to feed his family, as opposed to his more hirsute co-poachers, who were probably using the money to feed themselves, and whatever other non-related individuals they might share their backwoods shacks with, the greedy bastards. Rusty obviously doesn’t want Bob to labor under the misapprehension that there will be consequences for his actions, which is why he’s stage-whispering to Mark well within earshot in panel three.

Still, the point is largely moot, because nobody’s going to jail. Obviously there are no such things as “courts” or “police” or a “criminal justice system” or “institutions of government with a monopoly on legitimate violence” in Mark’s universe. There are only Mark’s fists and the righteous punishment they dish out. This explains why the poachers are just glumly sitting around the swamp; having been punched, their villainy has been drained away, and they are hollow of motivation and await further instructions.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/24/09

Cue may be intensely stupid and have dumb piercings, but give him this: he is a total fanatic about referring to his sad little trailer as his “crib.” Here, he almost seems to be using the word as an act of defiance: “Yeah, all you squares might look down your nose at ol’ Cue, just because I deal weed and hold old people for ransom. Well, you know what? I won’t use some bourgeois term for a dwelling, you hear me? I won’t! You can put me in jail, but you can’t stop me from calling my cell a ‘crib.’”

Apartment 3-G, 11/24/09

Well, it looks like the staff of I Dressed In The Dark met with complete and total failure in their attempt to gussy up Tommie. I visualize wave after wave of highly trained makeover artists charging at her, only to watch their best efforts vanish beyond Tommie’s event horizon of blandness. At least they convinced Ruby that her ridiculous hair ribbons should complement her outfit, rather than being the exact same color as everything else she has on.

Hold tight for your comments of the week, because first: remember how I was on the radio, in Australia? Well, now I’m on the Internet, in Australia! Er, and everywhere. Anyway, you can download my Australian radio appearance here. There are live performances of Mary Worth and Rex Morgan in there too, which is awesome, obviously.

And while we’re on matters antipodal: remember last Friday’s Luann, when hunky Man from a Land Down Under Quill told Luann that “Aussies have Thanksgiving too”? Turns out that’s not true, at all! Check out the comments on that article to find out more, with fun info about the “Starbucks Purge of 2008.”

And now … your comment of the week!

“Sounds like a certain blog-writin’ flatlander ain’t acquainted with bear face stew.” –Derdrom, in response to my curiosity as to what became of the real head originally attached to this bearskin rug

And the runners up! Extremely funny!

“I’m not saying it was a bad idea to extract all of Rusty’s teeth. I’m just saying it didn’t help.” –Poteet

“I think when all is done and punches have been delivered, Mark will take Rusty aside and chide him severely for using a contraction, even in the heat of battle.” –Niall

“Dolly is making graven images again. Can I stone her?” –zerowolf

“I’ve commented on this before, but I’m kind of obsessed with Rusty’s origin story. I now believe that Mark Trail periodically releases spores, which drift out over lost forest and grow in wood that’s iron-rich — say, from an attached chain that could hold down a raccoon or a small dog. The spores gradually grow into a misshapen juvenile form (often called ‘rusty’ due to the presence of iron). This then breaks free and wanders the woods until it finds an adult of the species. They form a pair bond. Then, the adult might asexually release spores one more time before the juvenile devours it and then reaches maturity itself. Rusty kinds looks like Mark, in a disturbing kind of way, and the above seems the most likely way that could be.” –Les of the Jungle Patrol

“I, too, am thinking Mary is developing a serious meth problem. Mary totally tweaked out last night and got a little aggressive with her nail gun. ‘What the fuck is up with these flowers. A vase? Greedy bastards!’ Blam blam. ‘Curtain rod? Oh, hell no. I’m just gonna nail these bitches right into the wall.’ Blam blam blam. ‘Now stay there, damn it, and don’t move again.’” –sugarpie

“I fail to see why Bradley DeGroot has a problem with a potential catfight between MILF DeGroot and Toni. It will combine his two objects of affection into one giant psychosexual Oedipus-fest.” –tb4000

“Our local paper experimented with weekday color for the comics, before deciding we Midwesterners just couldn’t live at that speed. Thus, I was thankfully spared the horror of Rusty’s flesh-colored eyeballs — until today. And are his eyes growing out of his cheekbones? I think they’re like the ‘eyes’ on the wings of some moths, just imitative markings to fool predators. In fact, that theory just about accounts for Rusty’s entire face.” –He Who Oh Never Mind

“See how Sassy is pulling towards the alligator, Rusty? That’s called Natural Selection — it’s God’s way of making all of us better.” –steve

“A band geek can PROBABLY net (get it?) a jock girl with tiny arms and giant hands. Probably. How cross-eyed is he?” –Shortpacked

MW: “I’m pregnant! Now our marriage is safe from any problems forever!” –commodorejohn

“Clearly the dialogue was removed from this strip so we wouldn’t realize Mark is the villain today. ‘Hello, friend puppy! My exuberance to see you overwhelms my dignity! Joy and rapture!’ Panel 2: ‘Egads, sir, I must protest your actions!’” –Dragon of Life

“One naturally speculates on how one’s lifestyle will change with the passage of time, but I have to say, if getting older means my suitors are going to start plying me with sleeping pills and rice pudding instead of liquor, I’m … just not ready for that.” –Violet

“Sadly, every time I see the dog from Mark Trail, all I can think is that Rusty’s porn star name must be, like, Sassy Woods.” –Tafadhali

“Those two Mary Worth panels look like magazine ads for the Maidenform Cross-Your-Crone Bra and the new Bose Longest Stereo Ever.” –Patrick

“Delilah is going to wish she had come to her senses sooner when the morning sickness and stretch marks begin. Breeders … ha! Mary’s shrunken womb will look pretty good to you when you’re yakking up your Cherrios, bitch.” –McManx

“‘Old folks? What are you talking about, man?’ Well, shit, who could have guessed that Alzheimer’s is contagious?” –Chyron HR

“The latest moronic Rex Morgan story was worth it for the second panel in today’s strip, in which we can actually see Tim transforming into a hybrid of Skeletor and Hitler, complete with the appropriate mustache. I can only hope that the new and improved Tim comes with a temper and habits to rival both his genetic forefathers and viciously kills Cue using a combination of black magic and propaganda. Then, off to find He-Man! Or a local minority group; it’s all good for Tim/Skeletor/Hitler.” –Alan’s Addiction

“It’s amazing that this conversation in Mary Worth is happening at all, considering Delilah is speaking into her maxi pad. Good thing she wont be needing it for the next nine months.” –lizzy

“Oh right Mary is a lady with breasts let me put incredibly unrealistic shading some where on her torso to show that she is the ladiest lady that ever was.” –Turtlefish

“As always, I am comforted by the refreshing moral simplicity of the Mark Trail universe. The transformation from bad guy to good guy requires no agonizing period of study or elaborate conversion ritual. All one needs to do is announce one’s intentions, then prove them through a vigilante assault on someone who has more facial hair than you.” –Holy Prepuce!

“I suspect Del had no idea what was involved in baby-making before she visited Charley’s love nest.” –timmy the dying boy

“I think it’s safe to assume someone swinging from a tree and kicking you in the face is not on your side.” –Jesseg

“Hi. This is Tom Batiuk. You aren’t supposed to enjoy anything. Thank you, and God bless.” –Mibbitmaker

“Snuff shoulda tuck ol’ Bullet with ’im. Mamas kin hunt ennythin’! She done a purty good job dyein’ his pelt to match, too. Well, ol’ Bullet were a purty fur piece f’m bein’ a puppy anymore. Bile ’im good, Mama, I reckon he’s kinda chewy.” –Écureuil Écumant

“It’s the Funkyverse version of ‘Point/Counterpoint’: Him: ‘I bought new CDs.’ Her: ‘Just in time for your hearing to fail.’ Him: ‘My tailored slacks are here.’ Her: ‘Just before you lose all bladder control.’ Him: ‘Levi Johnston is naked in the new Playgirl!’ Her: ‘Too bad your eyes are … wait, what?’” –Ed Dravecky

“One of two teams has won a football game. Hurrah! Or possibly not. Who knows?” –One-eyed Wolfdog

“Crock and company are imagining themselves in a winter wonderland to take their minds off their endless hellhole of a life. ‘Sir, another guard died of heat stroke yesterday.’ ‘GOSH IT SURE IS ANNOYING TO SHOVEL ALL THIS SNOW, AMIRITE?’” –bman

“Every morning before I get my newspaper, I anxiously anticipate that day’s comics page. Will Crankshaft be cranky today? Will he mispronounce a word? Will be be incompetent in some kind of yardwork? Or will he grill something incorrectly? No matter how many times I see these same jokes repeated, they in no way become old.” –Darkefang

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Shoe, 11/23/09

It is not often that I offer unironic congratulations to the writers of any comic, let alone to those of Shoe, but: Unironic congratulations, writers of Shoe, for slipping what seems to me to be a fairly transparent premature ejaculation joke past the censors at Cassatt and Brookins, Inc. I guess you could just bat your eyes innocently and say, “Oh, no, that’s just the length of their relationship!” but, uh, yeah. And the joke would have maybe worked better if she had said “six and a half feet,” though would anyone actually say that in idiomatic English? Also: six and half foot tall prematurely ejaculating bird, yeesh. But still, a comics coup!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 11/23/09

Speaking of coups, I’m pretty unsettled by the sheer quantity of ammunition that Snuffy is stockpiling in his rickety rural shack. Apparently he’s tired of just killing muskrat for stew and firing warning shots over the head of the occasional revenuer, and has decided to launch a full-on armed assault on Sheriff Tait, who as near as I can tell is the only legally sanctioned authority figure resident in Hootin’ Holler. If Lukey’s head-shakin’, tongue-wagglin’ approval is any indication, he assumes he’ll have a privileged position in Snuffy’s New Order, though of course one can never really trust the word of an unstable military dictator.

Gil Thorp, 11/23/09

Tightly wound rage case Duncan Daley has been working hard at being good because of some inspirational blah blah his brother tried to hand him before he went to prison, but now that his brother is starting prison fights, Duncan has decided that being good is for suckers. His disconcerting facial expression in panel three — the tight little smile, the faraway eyes — promises that he’s going “celebrate” with grim, fanatical intensity, possibly leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.

Crock, 11/23/09

OH OH WAIT EXCEPT WE LIVE IN THE SAHARA FUCKING DESERT